


The Dive of A Lifetime

by TransFurryLesbian



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Because god knows I'll never play these dweebs, Original work - Freeform, Time for some Dungeons And Dragons OC work!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransFurryLesbian/pseuds/TransFurryLesbian
Summary: This is an ongoing fic full of my D&D Characters that I'll never use! All decisions and combat is based on rolls so I have no clue how this will go!





	1. Two Elves, A Genasi and A Human Walk Into A Tavern

The Beginning

"Alright guys, glad you could make it!" Nadia looked around the table as the relative strangers sat down, not saying much. They barely knew each other, and that was how she liked it.

 _God, DMing new people is always great,_  she steepled her hands together as the players settled in. It was a small group, 5 people including her.

"So, let's get introductions out of the way! I'm Nadia Silveria, your Dungeon Master," She humbly placed a hand on her chest and bowed her head before gesturing to the man to her right.

"Uhh," He stammered and looked down sheepishly as the eyes all fell upon him. "I'm Chance and this is my first time playing, uhh, face to face." Nadia nodded and gestured to the person to Chance's Right.

"Hey guys, I'm Sadie King! I'm actually not new to the DnD scene, but I hope y'all'll stop me if I make any stupid assumptions about what you do or don't know," Nadia moved her gaze again towards the left of the table.

"Vernon. First time ever for me. Looking forward to it." Nadia stared at them for a bit longer. They were closed off, arms crossed flush on their chest, rocking back a bit on the chair.  _This'll be fun,_ Nadia smiled and moved to the woman on her left.

"Tracey Blevins! I'm also new to Dungeons and Dragons! I haven't even listened to any of the podcasts or anything," She admitted that last bit with a bit of an embarrassed blush and hair tuck. Nadia was  _delighted_.

"Awesome! Well, we've got you guys snacks and refreshments, so you guys ready?" The group nodded and spouted a few confirmations, and Nadia beamed.

* * *

**1 hour after Dusk, Inside of a Tavern. It is raining outside.**

A man sits in a tavern. Its relatively small, and filled with a reasonable amount of people for the time of day, and relative size of the tavern. The barkeep, a small gnomish woman, is busily keeping the bar... like a barkeep is want to do.

The man is human, with silver hair, slicked back: from rain or gel it is hard to tell. He is nursing a large tankard of brown ale. He has his cloak, a motley grey, draped over the back of his chair. Leaned against the central leg of the table, hidden from view of the other patrons, is his bad, and a large crossbow, adorned with what appears to be steel ridges. His eyes are closed. He does not appear to be in thought or prayer. He takes another drink, and returns his attention to the book in front of him. He is hunched over, refusing whatever curious eyes might try to read it. He makes a quick note in a second book laid next to it before snapping both shut and placing them in his pack.

Across the room, an old elven woman sees this. Curious, she stands up with her bottle of wine, offers the table to a group of dwarves with a smile (They do not return it, but she takes no notice, or rather, does not care), and sits at the mans table, across from him.

"Heya," Her voice is husky,  but sweet, like a very nice baklava. "Whatcha' readin?" The man looks up at her. He notes her age, ancient by human standards. Easily 500 years old, he reasons. His eyes flick across her wrinkles, her cape flung and tied over one shoulder like half of a shawl, deep blue and green like the sea after a storm and with just as much sheen, her dark skin, weathered. She reaches cross the table for a handshake, and he spies the callouses built up over decades, nay,  _centuries_ , at sea. He grasps it, but does not realise until she shakes it with vigor.

"Uhh, just a... book." His voice is refined. Cultured. She smiles. Nothing is just a book. She tells him so and expects further comment. It does not come.

"Faral Lethrana," She smiles and takes another sip of her wine. The man recognises the make.

"Seashine wine? That was-"  
  


"Discontinued, yeah." She takes another sip, and offers the bottle to the man. He drinks. It is the best wine he has ever tasted. 

"Emanuel Manys." He nods curtly and hands the bottle back as the door behind him opens. Drawn to the sound he turns back in time to see two figures bickering with each other.

"You said turn right!" A genasi woman, fiery in skin, lineage, and temperament snaps, quieting the tavern to a whisper.  _Town's full of nose's_ , Emanuel scoffs to himself and turns back to the elf.

"I said  _east_ , dumbass!" Another elf.  _Great,_ thought both Emanuel and Faral at the same time, in very different tones. Emanuel sighed  and turned back to his drink, and grimaced as he saw Faral wave the two over.

"What the  _hell_ are you doing?" He whispered through gritted teeth.

"Meeting new people," She smiled and called for a round for the two newcomers as they tentatively sat at the table, at opposite sides from each other. Emanuel suddenly felt very accosted from this crowd.

"Faral Lathrana, this is Emanuel Manys!" Emanuel died a bit more inside.

The genasi introduced herself as Yanlish, and the other elf was Jane. Emanuel was readying himself to stand up when he felt a big meaty palm rest heavily on his shoulder. It smelt of beer and hard work and uglyness, and the rest of the body followed expertly in that descriptor.

"Well, look'it this lil' shindig," The voice was deep, intimidating, and only a little bit all too drunk.

"What's a couple'a  _knife-ears_ and a  _flameblood_ doin' in this fine town," Faral looked up at the man. A preacher, adorned in the telltale brown and silver of The Allfather.

"Preacher, Good Evening!" She smiled, while the other three coward into themselves.  _What the hell is she doing_ , they all thought together, or at least some variation of such. Faral stood up, but this man, built like a brickshithouse and about as nasally pleasing, towered over her. Regardless, she slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Me and my friends here were simply having a drink and catching up!" The Preacher spat onto her boot, and Yanlish swore she saw her eye twitch.

"Well, that wasn't very nice Preacher. Maybe you should have a drink." The entire tavern's eyes were on Farash, but noone could have described what happened. Everyone knew and saw she was holding the wine bottle, but it was nowhere near his face, and noone had any idea where that dagger had come from. Regardless, there it was, sticking out of his hand, and there  _he_ was, lying on the ground, and there _she_ was, sitting on top of him with a the shattered neck of a wine bottle. The tavern went insane.


	2. The Trouble An Elf Can Garner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone ropes her new partners into a shady deal.

**An hour and multiple drinks later**

"And so there I was, half naked in the crow's nest with the enemy captain on top below me, and I  _still_ had half a bottle left!" Faral was rocking on her chair, tankard of whiskey held lazy in her grip as she regailed the tavern in her stories from the sea. Emanuel and Yanlish had retired nearly right after her display over the preacher, unwelcome to the attention.

Jane was watching from a few tables away, fiddling with vials filled with strange powders and assorted liquids when a human sat down next to her. She flicked her eyes over them once. Woman, dark skin, brown eyes, lithe body. Beautiful. She put down the vials and called for another round.

"Hey," She purred, turning her full attention to the stranger. "Jane Malia." She held her hand out to shake. The woman grabbed it enthusiastically.

"Parkett! Harley Parkett! I saw, well, we  _all_ saw,  your friend's display amd I just wanted to introduce myself and ask for your help!" Her voice was light, and quick, full of energy. She couldnt be more than 30, Jane reasoned internally.

"Of course, what's the problem?" Two mugs of fine ale were set down by the barkeep, and Harley swooped hers up, draining half almost instantly before slamming it back on the table and wiping the froth from her lip with the back of her hand.

"Well, you guys being adventurers and all, I was wondering if I could bother you with, uhh, well, Im not really at liberty to say, really," Her grip tightened slightly on the cup.

"Well," Jane put her hand over Harley's. "I'll need to bring this up with this group but if I...  _spent some time thinking over it_ ," She winked and squeezed her hand suggestively. "I'm sure I'd be more enthusiastic."

 

"Alright," The table was losing their shit, Vernon was bright red and hiding their head in their hands.

"Sadie, I'll need you to make a straight up Charisma check for me. So roll a d20 and add your charisma bonus,"

"I know, I know," Sadie snapped playfully as she rolled. "Uhh, thirteen plus 2. Thats a 15!"

 

Harley giggled and turned a shade or two pinker as she sat _much_ closer to Jane, almost straddling her lap.

"I think that would do us  _both_ some good," She winked and stood up, now holding tightly to Jane's waist, almost as if claiming a prize as she walked them both upstairs.

 

The table exploded into laughter and  _Oh my GOD_ s.

"Sadie! I can't believe you're fucking the questgiver!" Vernon playfully smacked her shoulder as Tracey shook her head exasperated.

"Look," Sadie dropped into Jane's ridiculous Boston accent. "I'm a simple city girl with simple city girl needs!"

The table groaned as Nadia continued.

 

**Late The Next Morning**

Emanuel was downstairs with Faral and Yanlish, fiddling with a small bubbling alchemy kit, garnering some weird looks.

"Okay, I have to ask," Yanlish broke the table's silence as she swallowed a bite of her breakfast.

"Are we sticking together? Like, what are you two doing? Because I'm headed north," She pulled a scroll out of her bag and handed it around the table.

"I've been commissioned to investigate an arcane ruin up near Saldersed." 

Emanuel shrugged. 

"I'm just wandering trying to learn more alchemy, try to make a career out of it. If that helps somehow with your cause I'd be fine with it." Faral nodded along.

"I'm honestly just spending my last few decades adventuring. I'm down for whatever," 

Yanlish nodded.

"Good. Don't fuck u-" Farash lightly, yet scoldingly, tapped the back of her head.

"Language young lady," Farash shook her head.

"I'm not that young! You're just way super old!"

"I am very old, you're right," Farash chuckled as she ripped into a sausage.

"Doesn't mean I wasn't your age once," Yanlish looked at her confused, but Emanuel nodded as if she was the wisest woman ever. Jane then walked down, chest and collar puffed up. The table raised their eyebrows.

"Well gang," She stole Emanuel's tankard and took a few long gulps. "We're going to destroy a cult."


End file.
